Index Page   The Lord Took Me

 

I find the church of the Lord Jesus

‘Will you be coming to the prayer meeting?’ asked the evangelist. ‘What actually is a prayer meeting?’ I queried.

‘Well, just come along and you’ll see for yourself,’ he smiled.

The place where we gathered was an ordinary room. We sand a hymn, ‘Nearer, still nearer, close to Thy heart…’ It was unknown to me but beautiful and not difficult to sing. Then the evangelist prayed, read from the Word of God and followed with a short message. How happy he looked, how radiant his eyes were.

Next we all knelt down. I was familiar with that from Table Mountain; there, too, we used to kneel down while father prayed. Mother and we children then joined in with the Creed and the Lord’s Prayer. My thoughts were carried back to far off childhood days. Suddenly the realisation of the present situation struck me again. The tireless traffic of the big city floated in at the open window. The evangelist had ended his prayer and said Amen. After a short pause someone else prayed – then his wife – followed by yet another woman, and, can I believe my ears, a prayer from the only young girl present. One after another the little circle of people prayed. All except one. That one clung to his chair and trembled.

‘I only hope nobody says anything to me,’ I thought fervently.

‘I hope not, I hope not.’ That was, for me, a humbling hour. I saw for the first time how simply, how naturally believers talk with their Father.

‘I could never do that,’ I felt. ‘No definitely not. Would I learn it later on?’

The next day one of the ‘sisters’ asked me – they all called one another ‘brother’ and ‘sister’ – ‘But Pastor Engelbrecht, why didn’t you pray last night?’ I dared not look at her. I think I blushed all over. Now I knew. I would never be able to pray like that.

Very much later I realised something of the tremendous power issuing from those simple and hidden prayer meetings. In them battles are fought and won, battles in the great fight of the faith.